Dead and Gone (Grave Talker Book 2) by Annie Anderson

Author:Annie Anderson [Anderson, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-22T22:00:00+00:00

14

“Code Boo?” Bishop snickered in my ear as he tagged my elbow in his large hand. How he’d gotten to me so quickly was a mystery since I couldn’t peel my eyes from the dead man across the gully. You know, the one that seemed so close to losing it.

“Adler?”

“Yeah,” I whispered back, not taking my gaze off the no-longer-living man sporting a crisp suit and tie and a lanyard hanging around his neck. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. If Bishop knew who he was, then he had to be with the ABI, right?

“What’s a Code Boo?” he asked, his breath tickling my ear. I could hear the smile in it. If he only knew…

“It’s a feral ghost in the vicinity who may become a poltergeist and harm people. She wouldn’t call it unless there was an actual threat, and she’s trying very hard not to spook the spook,” Sarina answered for me, which I appreciated. I had a feeling if I moved, the man was going to turn. “Help me clear these people out. We don’t have a lot of time.”

It had been a long time since we’d had a poltergeist on hand, and even longer since I had to deal with one so pissed off. Calming specters was a specialty of mine, but I couldn’t exactly do that with a crowd of people watching.

I’d rather not trade in my prison stay for a psych one.

Plus, I had no idea what could happen now that I actually had juice. It wasn’t like before when I didn’t light up like a Christmas tree. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

When the majority of people were out of earshot, I made the likely stupid decision to approach the specter. Of course, it was just my luck that this guy not only knew who I was, but he also seemed to be pissed as hell at me.

Goodie.

I picked my way through the gully, trying not to get my boots wet. Not that it mattered. I had a feeling I’d be running from this guy before the evening was over.

“You,” the man hissed when I was in earshot, and it was all I could do not to beat feet back where there were people and lights and some modicum of safety. It was an illusion of safety, but whatever.

“You know me?” I asked, pitching my voice in a soft, conciliatory tone that I hoped spoke to him. It did not.

The man approached, doing that thing that ghosts did where they glide superfast and scare the shit out of you. Getting right in my face, it was all I could do not to scream my head off and take off running. “You’re the reason I’m dead, so yeah, I fucking well know you.”

Super. He knew he was dead and blamed me and knew all the ghost tricks to frighten the fuck out of me. We were getting off to a great start.

I did my best to calm my heart rate—and my brain—and ask the important questions.

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